The snow is floating in a vast and colorful way to the endless distance. At the foot of Fengyuan Mountain, rue spreads to the horizon. When the wind blows, the goose-yellow petals flutter up and down one after another. That year, I dragged Qian Ge to run across this vast land, through the heavy snow, through the rue, through the time as pure as the stream, dancing lightly.
When we are tired from running, we will lie down and merge into the quiet sea of flowers, with the transparent sky and lazy floating clouds above our heads. We just stared at the sky in silence, sometimes smiling silly, neither of us willing to leave each other.
This look lasts all winter.
Spring passes and autumn comes, flowers fall and flowers bloom.
Conception: